By The Secret Diner –
Did you guess that my last review was of The Happy Place Eatery at 586 E. Main Street in downtown Ventura? Treat yourself to a date night at their restaurant. Tell them “The Secret Diner” sent you.
With just two mystery meals documented, certain themes are already beginning to emerge – among them, the grace and challenges of second chances. This lesson feels appropriate in the season of fresh starts and resolutions.
Mrs. Secret Diner and I ventured away from the downtown area to an eatery tucked into the corner of one of the ubiquitous malls sprawled out like puzzle pieces along the Ventura Foothills. Wedged between a coffee shop and a hardware store, this eatery’s sandwich- board invitation announced its return from fire damage that had closed the doors for some time.
Perhaps better known for its breakfasts, at least that’s how we knew the place, we visited for an early dinner. Vehicles jockeyed for spots in the busy lot, some with more or less patience than others. We scored a spot near the door.
Upon entering the dining room, we were invited to sit “anywhere you like,” and had a choice of booths along both sides or four-top tables in the middle, tables that could be pushed together for larger parties. We chose a booth near the waiters’ station and pass, great for eavesdropping upon kitchen drama and gossip. We could have made a right into the taproom to sit at the small bar or banquet seating available there. The bar offers a nice wine list, craft cocktails, and an IPA-heavy list of 19 different brews.
My dining companion ordered a specialty concoction which mixed a local gin and champagne. I chose a honey blonde brewed by Pizza Port Brewery of Carlsbad. Waiting for our drinks, we thumbed through a menu of starters, specialties, salads and sandwiches, as well as Mexican favorites. Salt, pepper, sugars and sweeteners, ketchup and hot sauce are placed on each table with flatware and blue-patterned napkins.
Our waitress returned with drinks and took our order: prime rib french dip for me, and the chicken piccata for my wife. We sipped our drinks and noticed the restaurant was filling, nearly every table taken. Of her drink she said, “light, refreshing, delish!” I could say the same of my beer, a light brew but with body – something to chew on.
While out to eat, my wife and I often talk about what makes a great meal. Of course, part of the formula is technique and imagination and ingredients – the food. Maybe more important, however, is context – the reason you are out, the people you are with. The McRib ranks in my top five sandwiches, certainly not because it is great food. Before he left for the Marine Corps, my best friend and I drank and played pool all night at a neighborhood bar. Driving him to the plane that would take him to boot camp the next day, we stopped and tried to remedy bitter hangovers with a McRib and a Coke – a meal seasoned with our histories and with the spice of an uncertain future.
The best meal Mrs. Secret Diner and I have shared was in a midwestern supper club in my hometown. We had recently married, a second crack at it for each of us, and I was excited to share my hometown and supper clubs with her. We primed our appetites with brandy old fashioneds and gorged ourselves on clam chowder, prime rib, and baked potatoes. Without question, this dinner ranks among the best we’ve ever eaten.
Imagine for a moment, the sandwich you might make yourself the next day with the leftovers from that dinner. Sliced prime rib seared just long enough to put heat in it, a toasted french roll smeared with some horsey sauce, swiss cheese, au ju. A sandwich that transcends food.
Such a sandwich is what our server delivered, a sandwich of memory and story. And the chicken piccata? Fuhget taboutit. Thin chicken breast dredged in seasoned flour and sauteed to a golden crisp. A sauce of lemon, butter, wine and capers. Golden and fluffy rice. Roasted corn. A plate beautifully color-coordinated.
Before settling our bill and leaving, we made a point of freshening up so that we could tell you the restrooms are bright and clean, one for the ladies and a wonderfully progressive gender-neutral option. Framed drawings of the restaurant’s namesake hang in the women’s room.
In each issue of the Ventura Breeze newspaper, Mrs. Secret Diner and I review a local eatery – can you guess where we ate? Put on your detective cap and check the next review, when all will be revealed!
